Chapter 9
CARO HADN’T MEANT for the question to be a difficult one, but by the way Silas stiffened beside her, she knew the answer would either not please her or not flatter him.
It would be difficult to say which would be the greater sin in this.
She waited with all due patience while he ran a hand through his hair.
“I was . . . unsettled by the changes I was experiencing. I could not come to you or address you with these ever-growing feelings while I was not settled in them. What if they were fleeting? What if it were only proximity and fondness that gave me such an expansion of the soul? I would do anything other than hurt you, so I had to be certain. I either needed to settle into my feelings or be settled by them. If that makes any sense.”
She found herself smiling almost fondly at his rambling. “You do so hate being unsettled.”
His short laugh eased her tension markedly. “I do. And the one person in whom I had always confided about such things was the one person I absolutely could not discuss the subject with.”
“I can understand that,” Caro said slowly, weighing each word carefully. “What confuses me is the three years of silence. Did it truly take three years to understand yourself enough to say a single word to me?”
Silas emitted a groan that was faint but weighty.
“I did not trust myself, Primrose. I could not bear the thought of breaking you or giving you a false idea of my thoughts and feelings. And if I had settled enough to ask for your hand, what did I have to offer you? Until I knew what my uncle thought of me and if I would be named his heir, I had no future that would entice any woman to become my wife and the mother of my children, let alone someone I wanted to impress and entice as much as you. I knew I loved you, knew the only future I wanted for myself was with you, but that future had to be sustainable before I could indulge in thoughts of it.”
The furrows in her brow felt heavy and weighted. “And that kept you from being able to be any sort of friend to me? After all we had been through? Forgive me, Silas, but I don’t understand. At all.”
She wasn’t trying to be cruel or obtuse, though she felt as though she was both when Silas flinched at her words.
“I know.” He moaned, the sound rasping and hoarse.
“I hated myself every day that I let the silence fester between us. I wanted my friend Caroline, but I didn’t know how to reach my friend without also reaching for the woman I had fallen in love with.
So I chose the path of more pain but the least resistance: complete silence.
It preserved my sanity, but it hurt you.
That alone means it was never worth it. I thought .
. . I thought . . .” His shoulders slumped.
“I thought you would be well enough without me. That I was superfluous to your life. Yet I still imagined that I could come back with prospects and confess my love for you and, somehow, all would be well. I did not consider how my absence might impact you. It was selfish, Caro, and there is no acceptable excuse.”
No, she rather thought there was not.
If what she was hearing was correct, Silas had not thought about her at all in his decision to remain silent for the last three years.
He had chosen his own self-preservation over her understanding or happiness.
They could have had a conversation about his feelings, his concerns, and his fears, and she might have been able to tell him how she felt and rid him of several of those issues.
Then the last three years could have been spent sharing their thoughts and feelings while he worked toward a future for them both.
Instead, he had worked in misery, and she had lived in loneliness.
Mistaking her silence for anger, Silas pressed on.
“I am so sorry, Caro. I regret everything, and nothing, not one thing, was worth the distance that has grown between us. My arrogance, my selfishness, my singlemindedness . . . Everything I did was in your name, but it was all about me. I am ashamed of myself, and if I were a better man, I would not approach you now, knowing the hurt and pain I have caused.”
Caro frowned, glancing over at him. “Why would you not approach me? Do I not deserve an explanation and apology?”
“You deserve so much more than that,” he told her at once, no hint of hesitation in his tone.
“What I mean is, if I were a better man, I would not come to you now and confess all of this. I would let you live your life with hating me, forgetting me, and I would recognize my selfishness as something that cannot be properly atoned for. I might resign myself to a life of regret and find it my due.”
“Then there would be two of us suffering and no one able to answer for what might have been. What a waste that would be!” She shook her head, huffing softly.
“You keep speaking of what you think I deserve and what you should do, how you should behave, the sort of man you should be, but not once in all of this have you even asked what I want. What I think I deserve. For someone who claims to love me as completely and wildly as you do, you seem remarkably preoccupied with your own opinions on matters.”
Silas frowned at her, not in anger or irritation, but confusion.
The poor man had no idea what she was getting at.
Caro exhaled a short, irritated breath. “Yes, you are aware that you hurt me with your actions and your silence, Silas, but have you even asked me what I wanted? What I thought? What I felt? The only thing I have admitted in this entire conversation is that I missed you. Everything else has been about you.”
Understanding seemed to dawn across his handsome face, and even in the dim light of evening and torches, she could see the rising flush of embarrassment.
His bright eyes lowered at once, and his hands clenched in his lap.
“You are right. Once again, I have been consumed with my own thoughts and assumptions. A despicable habit I seem to have formed while hiding my feelings from you.”
Oddly enough, his admission made Caro’s emotions and thoughts settle within herself.
Caro bit down on her lip, wondering how much to share and how much to keep back. He was clearly passionate in his feelings for her, but could he actually allow her to know her own mind and heart rather than continue to make assumptions about her feelings? Or make decisions for her?
It would serve him right not to know what was going on in her mind and heart after all of this turmoil he had caused and put himself through.
But lack of communication was what had caused these issues between them in the first place, and Caro was not going to let poor habits continue. Not when being open and honest could give her everything she had ever wanted.
Perhaps for both of them.
And cowardice had done enough damage to them already.
She released her lip, closed her eyes for a slow inhale, then exhaled and opened them, turning to give Silas a steady, calm look. “I need to tell you something, Silas. And I need you to listen to me clearly and patiently until I have said it all. Can you do that?”
He nodded so eagerly that Caro had to bite back a laugh, and she looked at him scoldingly. “I mean it. I need you to consider your answer before giving it. Can you do what I’ve asked?”
Silas did her the credit of lowering his eyes, a faint line appearing between his brows as his jaw clenched. “Am I going to be upset by what you have to say?” he asked her roughly.
“I have no way of being certain of an answer there,” Caro admitted.
“It has been three years since we have seen each other, let alone spoken. Perhaps I do not know you anymore. Perhaps what I thought you would think and say and feel when we were best friends is not the same as what it might be now.”
In a flash, Silas seized her hand and pressed it to his lips. “No. No, my Primrose, I am the same man as I ever was. Only more entirely yours.”
Her determination to be strong and more aloof wavered dangerously against the curl of heat and longing that lit her core at his words.
Oh, she wanted him to be hers, but only if he vowed to be better in loving her. Only if he never again retreated to silence. Only if he could see her as a partner and confidante, as the best friend he’d always had, rather than some fragile, delicate figurine on a high shelf.
She offered him a slight smile, then nodded once. “If you had asked me, even once, if there was a chance that I might have feelings for you stronger than friendship, I would have told you yes.”
She felt the exact moment that those words sank in for Silas. His entire body stiffened, arching his frame slightly more upright, and a sharp inhale rent the air.
But, as he promised, he said nothing and stared back at her, eyes wide and filled with a fervent light. His lips were pressed into a line so tight that Caro suspected he was holding back words and responses by sheer force alone.
Caro swallowed, oddly disappointed by the restraint he was showing, despite asking for it. She might have loved to hear an actual reaction.
Oh well.
“My feelings for you have been more than friendship since I was sixteen years old,” Caro went on with a soft sigh, looking away from him.
“I don’t have a moment of recognition like you.
With me, it was far more gradual. I always found you handsome, I always loved being around you, I always wanted you to be the first person I saw, or spoke to, or said good night to.
But the feelings that had always been there eventually grew deeper. Stronger. More precious. More painful.”
Silas shifted, and she glanced over at him, catching sight of his lips as they silently formed the word “painful” as though it was agony.